Howe it All Began
by Crescent Lovegood
Summary: Between Books 6 and 7. Harry returns to Godric's Hollow to find out more about his past, his parents and the Mauraders. Little does he know how close to the past he really is. Rated T. Patience thru the 1st few chapters. Howe is spelled correctly. R&R.
1. Never Talk to Strangers

Chapter 1-

Harry stepped onto the grounds of where his parent's house once stood. No one had bothered to rebuild in this part of Godric's Hollow and for that Harry was glad. He had been almost eager to go back to the place where it all had started. He was sure that there would be some heartache by doing this, but as he stepped onto the lot covered in ash that no one bothered to clear, Harry's heart sank and broke simultaniously. He kicked what he thought was a soot-covered rock, but thought better of it since he truly couldn't say what it was. Maybe that was why nobody had come to clear the area; it seemed disrespectful.

_Maybe this was a bad idea_, he thought. Maybe he wasn't ready to revisit this part of his life. Harry suddenly felt very overwhelmed. He turned to go, but hesitated. He wanted to know. There was a very slim chance of him finding anything to help with his search or even the past he never knew, but he wanted to try. Slowly, Harry took a few more steps onto the lot. The earth crunched and broke underneath each step. He came upon a dirt covered mound of rumble and gently bent down to pick it up. It was a hunk of wood infested with several many-legged insects that squirmed and scattered at their encounter with sunlight. Harry threw the wood down and ash filled the area around his ankles. He thought he had seen something shiny in the middle of the lot and went to go find out what it was. Harry bent over to uncover his new find when he heard a voice from behind him.

"You won't find anything here, Harry," came the voice.

_Had this been a trap?_ Harry whipped around, wand already out, to face the person (whom Harry had convinced himself was Voldemort or Snape) to which the voice belonged.

Near a tree stood a man with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He was slim, almost too slim, and looked as if he could be a professor. The man placed his yellow, squared-rimmed glasses further up his thin, long, straight nose. He was smiling slightly and Harry could see he had very white, straight teeth. The beard he was trying to grow was short, small and precise; barely covering his chin. Harry's wand didn't stray. 

"Who are you?" he asked the man. "What do you want?" 

"To help you Harry," the man replied, taking a few steps toward him. Harry flicked his wand threateningly. "You needn't worry; I'm not going to hurt you," was the man's reply to this. He smoothed down his very tailored, blue robe, made sure it was clasped all the way down, and his hood was covering his face.

"Who are you?" Harry repeated. The man stopped, sighed slightly, and stuck his hands in his pockets. Harry's knuckles turned white. "Answer the question!" 

"My name is Howe. I'm a friend of Lupin's. You remember Lupin?" The man was speaking to Harry as if he had gone around the twist. Howe took another step forward. 

"Stay there!" Harry ordered. A beat. "I don't believe you." 

"I am. I knew your father and your mother. They were friends of mine. I went to school with them." He was standing infront of Harry now, hand extended for a shake. "You can call me Duncan." 

Harry looked into the man's face, skeptically. Did he think Harry was completely mad? Harry's trust had decreased significantly over the years. Yet, maybe Harry was a bit mad. He had after all come back to the place where all the heartache had started; by himself which was probably the craziest part about it all. He had told Ron and Hermione that he wanted to go alone. Now he was regretting this decision. Something gleemed on the man's left cheek.

"I didn't expect you to believe me the first time 'round," he said with a bit of a smile. "That's why I brought this." He slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket to reveal a small, slightly torn picture. It wa a moving picture Harry recognized immediately. His parents were smiling back at him while Sirius Black wandered into the picture carrying a glass of wine. Sirius clapped a hand on James's shoulder.

"Where did you get this?" Harry asked, snatching the picture. The man stuck his hand back into his pocket.

"I took it. The picture I mean. I was the one behind the camera."

"What?" Harry asked more to the picture in his hand than the man infront of him. "If you were such good friends with my parents...where have you been?"

"All questions can be answered tomorrow," the man replied, reaching into his pocket once more.

"Tomorrow?" Harry echoed. He had been staring at his parents' faces. They smiled at him lovingly.

"Yes, tomorrow. If you would like to meet me tomorrow morning, I will have further proof. I'm sure you have lots of questions 'bout your parents,don't you?" The picture left Harry's hands. "I want to help you, Harry. Please. Think 'bout it alright?" The picture was replaced with a note. There was an address neatly written on the parchment. Harry's thoughts came back to him. He had found someone with answers. Harry looked up. The cloak was starting down the street.

"Wait!" Harry looked down at the parchment again and up at the hooded figure walking away. "Wait. Mr. Howe!"

The man didn't turn around, but raised a hand to wave goodbye. "Tomorrow, Harry. Tomorrow." Once the figure reached the corner of the street, he disapparated. The ash around Harry settled to the ground once more.


	2. When One Door Closes, the Same One Opens

AN: Things will be more interesting in the future I promise. You need to set the stage, you know? Disclaimer: Only one of these characters is mine and I can't truly say that because he is collaboration of plot bunnies with my friends. The others are, naturally, JK Rowling's.

Tell me what you think

Chapter 2-When One Door Closes, the Same One Opens

"Are you mad?" Ron voiced loudly in the privacy of their rented room. "He could be a Death Eater! He could be with the Ministry! He-"

"He could have killed you," Hermione piped up. They were sitting nervously next to each other on one of the small beds; Ron scooting forward with anxiety and Hermione wringing her hands in her lap. "I knew we should have gone with you."

"Hey!" Harry said defensively. "I'm not completely inept. I did defeat the Dark Lord once before!"

"With your Mum's help," corrected Ron.

"Are you helping?" Harry retorted. Ron became quiet. Harry turned to Hermione. "That's just the point. He has information about the first time Voldemort gained power. He knows about my parents and is willing to talk about it."

"But Harry," came Hermione's voice, "Are you ready for that kind of information?"

It was a good question. Before, Harry wanted to go back to Godric's Hollow, but when he was there, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details. Was he afraid of what he might find? Harry didn't have alot of information about his parents- only what people said in passing (which wasn't much) and Snape's memory. As much as he didn't want to believe Snape, it was the most real memory Harry had of his parents. It didn't seem fair. It didn't add up.

"Yes," Harry finally answered. "You are always the one saying knowledge is power. What could it hurt?" Ron and Hermione sat quietly for a moment. Ron looked as though he wanted to say something, but shut his mouth. He did it again. Finally he replied,

"May we at least go with you?"

Harry lay awake that night thinking. He kept looking over at the scrolled address on the table. He, of course, told Ron and Hermione that they could join him tomorrow, but he didn't know how much of this was a trap. Harry didn't want his friends to be in danger because of his stupid choices. He played out what he wanted to happen, what he didn't want to happen, and what he would do in the worst case scenario. He tossed and turned most of the night until Harry felt he would be more productive awake.

He got out of bed and walked quietly over to his trunk. He rummaged through his things; feeling his way though his clothes. His hands reached something rectangular and leathery. Harry tugged on the object and his folded clothes fell out of the way.

He spent the rest of the morning staring at the only pictures he had of his parents wondering what this Duncan Howe knew. Why hadn't he come to Harry before? Where was this man when Harry was stuck at the Dursley's? By the time they were all awake and ready to leave, Harry over to the fireplace, grabbed a bit of powder, and (one by one) said the address within the Floo Network. It wasn't Harry's favorite way to travel, but he had to admit it wasn't the worst either. Soon enough, he landed into the ashy fireplace and carefully stepped out, followed by Ron and Hermione.

They were in the living quarters of what seemed to be a very neat, small home. The place looked extremely white with bits of color here and there. For such a confined space it felt very spacious. Ron nervously began to brush soot off of his clothes, hoping to better match the room.

"Hello? Mr. Howe?" Harry called out into the room. The three waited for a reply. Looking around the room, Harry noticed that almost every wall had at least one bookshelf.

"I'm in the kitchen. Make yourself at home," was the echo. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on the edge of a couch within the room. They sat quietly until the brown haired, professor-looking man emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of tea and toast. "Good morning Harry," he said cheerfully while placing the tray on a table in the middle of the room. "I didn't realize you were bringing an entourage. Don't worry," he continued as Harry started to apologize. "I figured they would be coming with you. In fact, I'm surprised you showed up yesterday with out them." Harry flushed. Duncan ignored this and walked over to Hermione "I'm Duncan Howe." His hand was once again outstretched.

"Hermione Granger," she replied hesitantly. He shook her hand lightly.

"Yes, yes. Terrible what Skeeter wrote about you in the Prophet. You must have really ruffled her feathers. "Hermione tried to keep a smug smile from her face. Duncan turned to Ron. "And your name is...?"

"Er, Ron Weasley." Ron replied shaking the man's hand.

"Pleasure to finally meet you. Don't hear something 'bout Harry without hearing 'bout Ron." Ron sat up a little straighter. "Would you like some tea?" Before anyone could answer, Harry interjected.

"How about some answers first." Duncan put down the teapot he had picked up and sat down in a light blue, cozy chair.

"What did you have in mind?" Duncan inquired, his hair falling into his eyes. He brushed it to the side as something gleamed on his cheek again.

"Did you know my parents were to die?" blurted Harry. Hermione shifted nervously in her seat as if she were sitting on a stove. Duncan glanced at her.

"Well," he said standing up. "It seems as though you are planning on staying a while. Please let me take your cloaks." Ron began peeling off his cloak.

"Don't try and sway off-topic. I came for answers." Harry demanded. Duncan took Ron's and Hermione's cloaks and started to walk for the front hall calmly.

"And answers you will get Mr. Potter," he said smugly. The others walked over with the man. Duncan took hold of the clear door handle on the closet door. He opened it, but instead of putting the cloaks on a hanger on the closet rod, Duncan hooked each cloak on the inside of the door. Ron and Hermione gave each other a look while Harry gazed around impatiently. Duncan shut the door and locked it.

"Um, sir?" asked Ron. Duncan took out his wand. Defensively, the others did the same. Duncan chuckled to himself. "Mr. Howe?" Ron's voice again. Duncan tapped the doorknob, shaking his head slightly. The knob changed shape and turned gold. He slowly turned the knob and opened the door.

The cloaks on the rod were gone and it was dark. The closet had transfigured into a dark, deep room. Mr. Howe glanced at Harry and smiled.

"Answers you will get," he said.


	3. The Mind is a Cluttered Place

AN: Thanks all who keep reading! I hope you like.

Chapter 3-The Mind is a Cluttered Place

"Would you like to enter?" the man called Duncan asked. They were standing in front of the doorway to a dimly lit room. Well, a minute ago it was a closet, but now it was a room. Harry wasn't sure. Ron was the first to step into the room, followed by Hermione. Harry didn't move. This fell into the worst-case scenario category. All three of them stuck in a room with a guy they hardly knew didn't seem like Harry's idea of a good time.

Come on Harry," Ron coaxed. Mr. Howe was still holding the door waiting for Harry. They were all waiting for Harry.

"You first," Harry told Duncan. Mr. Howe gladly stepped into the room. "Keep the door open," was Harry's next order. Duncan nodded.

"Fair enough," he replied. Harry hesitated.

"And your wand stays out here in the hall," Harry ordered.

"Harry!" Hermione scolded.

"No, no. It's alright," said Mr. Howe stepping into the hallway once again. He unsheathed his wand and placed it on the entryway table. Then he stepped into the room. "Anything else?" he asked. Harry couldn't think of anything more. It seemed safe. He stepped into the room. "Would you like more light?" Mr. Howe asked the trio. When no one answered, Hermione nodded. Light filled the room.

The room didn't have a lot of furniture and was covered in books and parchment. Stacks of books from the floor to the clock were pressed against the walls of the room. There was a desk littered with parchment in the corner while the trashcan remained empty next to the chair. In the back of the room was a pedestal and upon it a large, glowing basin. Shelves against the wall held hundreds of bottles with silvery thread-like memories. There was a hammock swaying invitingly near it.

"Sorry it's so cluttered," was all Duncan seemed to say, as if he was supposed to keep it clean for someone. It reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley apologizing for her messy house when he visited during the summer. Ron flopped himself into the hammock that Harry realized wasn't attached to anything.

"This is brilliant," Ron expressed. Hermione rolled her eyes and made her way over to the chair.

"Do you like it? I got that when I went to Maui for a month. That was a great trip."

"You've been to Maui?" asked Hermione.

"Oh yes. I was visiting an old friend who lives there now, with her husband. Pretty lucky if you ask me." Harry was staring at the books and parchment strewn across the desk. Drawings and clippings were the first to catch Harry's eye. One article was dated about 20 years back. The Dark Mark loomed in the picture.

"You've kept all this?" Harry asked.

"As much as I could. It wasn't easy," Duncan Howe replied honestly. "The Ministry got a hold of parts the Death Eaters got hold of other parts. I've done my best to maintain possession though and I think I've done fairly well."

"Is this all on Harry's parents?" asked Hermione.

"No. While some of this deals with Lily and James, it also deals with Harry…and Voldemort." He had said the name. He seemed to spit the name as he spoke. "Fell free to look around."

"You said you went to school with my parents. Lupin has never mentioned you. Neither had Sirius for that matter."

"Well, I wasn't in the same House," Duncan explained, while sitting down on a stack of books. "I was a Ravenclaw. I really don't think Sirius would be talking about me much under the circumstances." When the trio looked perplexed, Duncan continued. "Besides, you are talking about your father's friends. I'm sure you know by now that it wasn't love at first sight with your parents?" Harry nodded. Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Harry looked at the floor, trying not to catch the others' gaze. "Hmm," Howe continued. "Well don't you think your mother had a few friends before James came into the picture?"

"I suppose so," Harry mumbled. Duncan looked at him as if he was supposed to solve a complex math problem in his head. It was quiet for a bit.

"Granted I knew Black and Lupin as fairly good acquaintances, but I was never part of their group." Howe thought for a moment. "We respected each other," he said finally.

"What is this?" asked Ron. They all looked over to see Ron in front of the basin holding a bottle. Hermione walked over first and read the label.

"It says 'denied'," she spoke. "What does that mean?"

"It's a memory. I label them so I know which is which. You can see how I might get confused." He pointed to the shelves with hundreds of bottles. "This is a memory of mine," he said taking the bottle and observing the label. "Looks like it was from 4th year. You can look if you would like." He handed the bottle to Harry.

"Go on Harry," Ron replied. "This is why we came here. You wanted to know more; here is your chance." Harry nodded slowly. He was very apprehensive about learning about his parents. Everyone he knew kept so secret about it, Harry had concluded that it was something that embarrassed them. Would his parents embarrass him?

Harry uncorked the bottle and dropped its contents into the basin. Hermione took the bottle and cork from Harry and smiled.

"Knowledge is power," she said before Ron dunked Harry's head into the Pensieve without a second thought.


End file.
